


Symphony

by TheLSpacer



Series: The Citadel String Ensemble [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Human Monsters, Multi, Petty Rivalry, bc let's be serious, disclaimer: I know nothing of what it's like to be in a string ensemble, no one can suspend their belief long enough to read a whole fic about an all-monster show choir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-29 10:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLSpacer/pseuds/TheLSpacer
Summary: Tensions between the Citadel String Ensemble and the Helicoid Community Choir are reaching their boiling point. While violinists Angelo, Damien and Caroline are out for show-choir blood, new members Marc and Talfryn just want to fit in. Meanwhile, the local music shop owner finds her routine disrupted by a certain violet-eyed accompanist, and Mira tries to steer the ship that's rapidly spinning out of her control.





	1. The Janus Incident: Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this dumb, self-indulgent AU a year ago, and finally decided that if no one was going to write it, I was, dammit!
> 
> Warning: to anyone at all knowledgeable about music, or what it was like to be a part of a string orchestra/choir, I'm sorry. Google and 2set violin are my best friends now. 
> 
> This is a pretty short chapter. I'm still trying to get my hand on writing (haven't done that in a long long time) and these characters. Also, sorry in advance for weird HTML things lol

“Those bitches started without us! It's 6.04, we’re only a couple minutes late!” Marc’s voice, sharp with irritation, drifted down the dimly lit hallway, as Talfryn jogged to keep pace with his brother’s electric wheelchair (lovingly christened ‘Dampierre’), panting as he strained under the collective weights of his viola and Marc’s cello, both strapped firmly on his broad shoulders. 

And indeed, it was true. As the brothers came to a screeching halt outside the door of practice room 5 (the only practice room with a working air-conditioner in the entire community building), they could already hear faint, familiar strains of Beethoven drifting through the paper-thin walls. 

“I guess it’s gonna be another one of those evenings, huh.” Neither brother felt the need to add on to Talfryn’s statement. In the month since they had joined the Citadel String Ensemble (the CSE, for short), they had never actually felt like a part of the tight-knit group of musicians that gathered once a week, playing everything from Handel to Hisaishi, united under the sole purpose of ‘providing world-class music for our community’, as their conductor-cum-president, Mira, often repeated. 

Maybe it was the fact that the brothers were new arrivals in this neighbourhood, having moved from the Craftsman’s Quarters on the other side of the large city. Maybe it was the fact that Marc was as abrasive as Talfryn was awkward, or that they, unlike everyone else in that room, had little to no background in music aside from their natural talent. Hell, maybe it was the fact that Marc and Dampierre hogged up the tiny -and only- elevator in the community center every time instruments needed to be transported. Maybe it was just another way the Universe worked against them. 

But the fact still stood that not a single person in the practice room just a turn of the doorknob away seemed to appreciate their presence from the day they auditioned to the present moment. Sure, everyone in the CSE _seemed_ perfectly cordial to the two of them, but the brothers knew better. Every time they were forced to turn to their neighbours to clarify an unfamiliar musical term or notation, every time they unknowingly played a little too loud, or committed any faux pas a _real musician_ would never fall prey to, they would hear the condescending amusement in the other members’ voices as they corrected them, never mind that Marc played the cello better than everyone in attendance, and that Talfryn was more knowledgeable about the mechanics behind each instrument than anyone they had ever met. 

_“Yes, when you see 'D.S’, you just need to go riiiight back to where this little sign appears! Learned that when I was ten, y’know?”_

_“Oh! You’re not pitch perfect? Not to worry, most of the rest of us are, and we’re more than glad to help the two of you out!”_

But friends or no, the brothers still had each other, and they had their music. In the end, as they would always console each other whenever they left the practice room feeling a little sore, those were the only things that mattered. 

Steeling himself, Talfryn pushed open the door to Practice Room 5. 

“Um, sorry we’re late everybody! Hope we didn’t miss…too..much?” Talfryn’s halting voice faded away as he felt a dozen pairs of eyes on him, as one by one, the musicians in the room put down their instruments. An awkward silence followed, broken only by Mira, standing tall and formidable (as usual) at the front of the room, while the other players formed a semicircle around her.

“We stopped at bar 22. Please see to it that you two arrive punctually to future practices.” Marc opened his mouth to defend his ‘punctuality’, but was swiftly silenced by the conductor’s flinty glare. 

“Yes ma’am,” the brothers intoned, as they scrambled to their seats. 

“Alright then, we’ll start from the beginning.” The chorus of rustling sheet music and last-minute tunings that filled the room after her statement fell to a hush once again, as the conductor raised her hand.

“Eyes on me, everyone.”

As they began to make their music, Marc and Talfryn couldn’t shake the feeling this was going to be a long evening.


	2. The Janus Incident: Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc and Talfryn have the beginnings of a monster hunt on their hands. Also, Caroline's here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys? I'm freaking out about the latest episode?? If you haven't listened then DO IT NOW. NOW. NOW. Anyways.

It had been a tough practice, but that was to be expected from an ensemble just a few weeks into learning a new piece. Nevertheless, the members could hear their parts gradually coming together, and the room was filled with a general air of tired satisfaction. As Marc and Talfryn joined the rest of the ensemble as they slid their dog-eared, scribbled-on scores back into their respective folders, and kept their instruments in battered cases, they heard their conductor’s sharp voice cut through the after-practice hubbub. 

“Good work, everyone. See you next Friday, and remember, there’s only a couple practices left till the Gala, so keep at it. Second violins-“ 

“-Hey Mira! Joining us for pizza?”

The voice that interrupted her belonged to Absolon. First violinist, vice president of the CSE, pretentious asshole. Marc closed the latches on his cello case, and watched from the corner of his eye as their conductor, parting words forgotten, joined the gaggle of violinists in their discussion of supper plans. 

He had never liked the first violins. It was no secret that they had the favour of their conductor. To every other member of the CSE, Mira was cool, authoritative, and a formidable leader. However, it just so happened that around a _select_ group of people (i.e. the type of people who were almost always given the melody line), Mira seemed to let down a considerable number of walls. Her smile came easier, and on occasion, she would even allow herself to be called by her _actual_ name instead of ‘ma’am’ or ‘miss conductor’. To make this ‘elite’ group even more insufferable, they seemed to enjoy nothing more than lording their self-imposed status over everyone else in the ensemble, especially the second violins (‘second-rate’) and the violas (‘the who now?’). 

Not only that, they seemed to always be the ones doing the conductor’s dirty work, as if they were holy knights sent on a noble conquest by their queen, to rid the land of all those she deemed ‘vermin’. In this case, said vermin included any and all members of the Helicoid Community Choir, with whom the CSE had been locked in a deadly rivalry with for as long as either side could remember. 

_Speaking of…_

“…just a couple days ago the tires of my car got slashed!” Marc couldn’t help but tilt his head toward the unfortunate violinist, as they told their tale to the gathered group. “All four of them too! I bet-“

“-I bet it was those fucking choir kids!” Absolon snarled. 

“Probably the Janus twins,” Mira nodded in agreement. “My tires got slashed too, and I saw them lurking around the parking lot after practice. Something needs to be done about th..”

Marc felt his brother tugging insistently on his sleeve, pulling him away from the conversation. “C’mon, Marc! We’re the only ones here aside from _them_.” He paused to look at the grouped violinists (plus one conductor), half of them engrossed in their plans for payback, the others calling the closest Dominoes. _Pizza and vengeance. Man’s two most primal needs,_ Marc mused.

And then an idea struck him. 

“Hey Tal…what do you think about-“

“-out of my way, stop standing there like idiots.”. The lightly-accented voice that snapped at them belonged to one of the second violinists, who -wait, why was she still in the practice room?- shouldered roughly past them, strode to the door, yanked it open ferociously, and slammed it shut behind her.

Before either brother had the chance to comment on the sudden appearance and prompt disappearance of the (very rude) second violinist, they found themselves being firmly ushered to the door by the biggest and burliest member of the gathered group, not taking kindly to having had their meeting interrupted by the disturbance. 

“Very sorry, but this meeting is for first violinists only!” Marc and Talfryn dully wondered if all unofficial bouncers were supposed to sound this cheerful and amiable, or if it was just Angelo. “Have a splendid evening!” His booming voice was cut off as he closed the door as gently as he was able. The brothers heard the ensuing indignant shouts from within the room as the door was slammed inward with such force that they were surprised cracks hadn’t appeared around the door frame, and for the second time that evening, they found themselves on the outside of the practice room, things having gone as spectacularly as they suspected. 

It being 8 in the evening, they could hear some classes and courses still being conducted. As they traversed the length of the hallway, they were accompanied by the sounds of upbeat zumba music, the turning of pottery wheels,

…and the telltale beep of a lift door slowly sliding shut.

“Wait! Wait! HOLD THE DOOR!” Marc yelled as urged Dampierre toward the lift, Talfryn hot at his heels (or in this case, wheels). Upon glancing up at the two brothers barreling toward her, the lift’s sole occupant began jabbing furiously at the ‘close’ button, but old community building lifts were notorious for their snail’s pace, and in the nick of time, Talfryn jammed a foot in the crack of the lift doors, forcing them apart and making way for his brother. The lift doors closed on its now-three occupants, and began its (agonisingly slow) descent. 

Still panting from the run, Marc and Talfryn turned to acknowledge the lift’s third occupant. “Sorry about tha- oh, it’s you. Caroline, right?” Marc gave a sheepish wave. 

And indeed, standing with her back facing the brothers was the same second violinist that had shoved past them just a minute before. Caroline was slightly shorter than Talfryn, with dark skin and short cropped hair. She cut an impressive figure, clad in a worn denim jacket and combat boots, with her violin case slung over one shoulder. In one hand she held a black tote bag, and in the other her phone, the screen of which she was resolutely staring at, not caring to grace Marc’s feeble attempt at conversation with a response. 

When the awkwardness became too much to bear, Marc wheeled Dampierre around to face his brother, continuing their interrupted conversation _sotto voce_. 

“Sooo…did you hear what they were saying in there?” He whispered.

Talfryn didn’t need to met his brother’s eyes to know that he was practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m… pretty sure they were telling us to get the hell out of the practice room?” He ventured hesitantly.

“No, no! The other thing! You know, the slashed tires, the HCC, the Janus twins? What do you make of all that?” 

“Uh, yeah, I heard all that, but what’s got you so excited about the Community Choir? They don’t have anything to do with us. I mean, I think this whole feud we’ve got with the HCC is kinda dumb, and the Janus twins slashing Malek’s tires was a pretty shitty move, but the first violins planning on taking revenge isn’t exactly any better! The Janus twins live across the hall from us, so…oh.” 

Talfryn couldn’t help the sinking feeling that formed in the pit of his stomach. 

“You’re…not suggesting we take matters into our own hands, are you?”

“That’s EXACTLY—ow!“ Marc’s response was quickly cut off as Talfryn whacked his arm. 

“Shhh! Not so loud, _she_ might be listening!” He threw a glance over at Caroline, but her eyes remained fixed on her phone. If he were more observant, he would have noticed that her eyes had been fixed on the same page for the entirety of their not-so-secret conversation, and that her head was tilted ever so slightly toward them. However, other thoughts preoccupied the violist’s mind, the foremost being that they _definitely shouldn’t be talking about breaking and entering the house of a HCC member in front of another person._

“You’re one to talk, Mr. I-Have-No-Concept-Of-Indoor-Voices”, Marc muttered under his breath. Before Talfryn could squawk a response, the lift’s speakers dinged pleasantly, and as the doors (blessedly) slid open, the two brothers beat their hasty retreat, leaving Caroline behind, as she began to hatch a plan of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [:^)](https://youtu.be/JMM_EiyvDBk)

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna get in the mood for this story? Listen to [this!](https://youtu.be/WLT55kPIFCo) Not a string quartet piece, but it SLAPS so who cares?
> 
> Also, thanks for reading!!


End file.
